


Human shield

by wolfypuppypiles



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Explosion, Family, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Prompt Fill, Protective Tony, Sedation, Whump, Worried Tony, worried happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 04:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfypuppypiles/pseuds/wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Peter could hear the bomb activate. He didn’t have time to think, he barely had enough time to move at all, but he managed to shove Tony backwards, and use his own body to shield him from the blast as, what once was the pristine lab, exploded.





	Human shield

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt sent to me on tumblr so whoever sent it I hope you like it! I really liked writing this one, although it was tricky at first which was why it took so long

“And this can be your lab, if you want. I know how much you love science, and Bruce and I were even thinking we could- “

Peter never would have heard it if he didn’t have enhanced hearing; and Tony didn’t notice it at all, but his words were immediately tuned out as Peters skin crawled.   
Something wasn’t right; he could feel it in his gut, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was until he realized what he was hearing. 

Ticking. And it was coming from behind the wall, right behind the light switch that Tony was reaching for. 

Peter should have been faster, he should have stopped him in time, but Tony managed to flip the switch before Peter could grab his hand. 

Peter could hear the bomb activate. He didn’t have time to think, he barely had enough time to move at all, but he managed to shove Tony backwards, and use his own body to shield him from the blast as, what once was the pristine lab, exploded. 

…

In an instant Tony’s world became nothing but heat, and light, and sound.   
His ears rang from the blast, and it took him a moment to realize he was on the ground, momentarily blind from the fire raging around them. 

His instincts kicked in after a second, and he realized there was a limp teenager sprawled across his chest.   
“Peter!” His voice was raw from the smoke and heat, and he coughed as he tried to sit up. 

A hand stopped him, as a hurried, concerned voice, met his muffled ears.   
“Don’t move! I’ve got medics coming, and a bomb squad, just don’t move.”

Tony blinked up at the figure leaning over him, squinting as he tried to work out who it was. Happy.   
The man knelt beside the two and gently placed two fingers at Peters throat. Tony watched his face and didn’t like what he saw.   
“Is he okay?”

Happy paused, expression pale and worried, as his gaze roamed over Peter’s back.   
“He’s alive Tony, but…just don’t move. The medics will be here soon. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Tony went to brush his concern away but reconsidered and decided to actually check. He could move everything, and he didn’t feel as if he were in any pain, apart from the small bump on the head he’d gotten when Peter had pushed him down. 

Happy watched Tony, waiting for his answer, as he grabbed a fire extinguisher and put out the small fires that flickered in the wreck of the ruined lab.   
Tony shook his head, and placed a hand behind Peter’s head, brushing at the teenager’s hair in an offer of comfort. It was a small gesture, but it was all he could do.   
“I’m okay, Peter pushed me out of the way. He saved me. What’s wrong with him?”

Happy visibly relaxed at Tony’s answer, shoulders sagging as a sigh fell from his mouth. He placed the extinguisher down, and rubbed a hand over his forehead, eyes not meeting Tony’s as the medics finally arrived. 

“…he’ll be okay.” That wasn’t an answer. 

Tony’s heart raced as he tried to piece together what was wrong with his kid, from the expressions of everyone around him.   
A stretcher was pulled out, and someone mentioned possible spinal injuries. It was agony, knowing something was wrong, but not knowing what it was or how bad it could be. He just needed answers. 

Happy stood back, to allow the medics through, and his face was pinched in concern. 

He couldn’t think of what could possibly be wrong, something that would make the medics reluctant to move Peter off him, until he felt something. 

It dripped. Tony could hear the patters on the floor, and feel the warm wetness seep into his own shirt. Too much of it. His hands grew damp with it and his heart raced as he carefully lifted one for him to see. 

Happy tried to stop him, but it was too late. 

“Oh god, Peter.” Blood was streaked across his palm, dripping off his fingers and staining the lines in his skin. There was too much. 

Tony’s chest tightened, as if someone had placed a band across it began squeezing. Happy’s voice met his ears, but it was warped and distant.   
He was finding it harder to breathe, and then he stopped altogether, when the limp form on top of him moved. 

It was a tiny shift, but it was followed by a pained whimper, and Tony sucked in a breath as he brought his hand back up to the back of Peter’s head, weaving his fingers in his hair.   
“It’s okay, kid. Stay still, you’ll be all right.”

The teenager squirmed minutely, and let out a weak cry, his hands finding Tony beneath him, and gripping handfuls of his shirt.   
“…Tony? Ugh, it…it hurts.”

The teenager was barely conscious, eyes blinking open to reveal his glassy gaze. He was clearly confused; and all he wanted was Tony.  
The medics began frantically trying to get both heroes to stay still, as Peter became more, and more desperate to move. 

The teenager let go of Tony, to put his shaky hands on the floor, and push himself up, but he immediately screamed in pain. He fell back onto Tony’s chest, tucking his face into his mentor’s shoulder. 

“Ughnn…What is that? Why does it hurt so much?” His tone was becoming more panicked, his words wet and slightly strangled as he started to cry. 

Happy came over and knelt down, taking one of Peter’s hands from Tony’s shirt, and squeezing his fingers.   
“Peter, I know it hurts, and I know you’re scared, but I need you to try to take some calm breaths. Can you do that?”

Peter let out a whimper and Tony patted at his hair. “It hurts to breathe.”

Happy nodded but remained calm. “I know, try to take small breaths through your tummy, not your chest, so your back doesn’t have to move so much. Tony and I are right here with you, you’ll be okay.”

Peter closed his eyes as he focussed, doing as he was told, flinching only when one of the medics placed a needle in his hand.   
Happy squeezed Peters fingers, his tone about as warm as it ever got. 

“There you go, that’s it.”

The needle in Peters hand was taped down, and the medic addressed the three men on the floor. “I’ve given him some pain relief. Peter, you might start to feel a little sleepy, but I need you to stay awake for just a little while until we get you properly checked out, okay?”

Peter hummed in acknowledgement, relaxing just a little as the pain began to ease.   
The medic spoke again, eyes flicking between Happy and Peter. “How long was he unconscious before we got here?”

Tony patted Peters hair again, as the kid grew heavier against him, as much ti calm himself as the teenager.   
“Just a minute or so, I think. He wouldn’t wake up.”

The medic nodded, and motioned her colleagues to bring the stretcher forward. 

They waited just a moment, for the pain meds to make Peter floppy and relaxed, rather than the tense and shaky mess he had first been when he’d woken up.   
Peter was breathing easier, and under enough of the medication that he was no longer able to formulate words, only let out mumbles and moans in response to the medic speaking to him. 

“We’re going to lift you onto the stretcher, and it may hurt but I want you to stay floppy okay? Just relax and let us do all the work. Keep breathing, and squeeze Mr Hogan’s hand if it hurts too much, and we’ll stop.”

Peter let out a small grunt in confirmation, eyes blinking slow as the medics all gathered around and held a different part of Peter.   
“Lift on three, ready? One, two, three.”

Tony didn’t know what to expect to see when they lifted Peter, and although he promised not to say anything, so as not to scare Peter, he couldn’t help but let out a small breath at the sight of him.   
“Oh, Peter.”

Peters back was a mess of glass, and shrapnel, his shirt and skin shredded in the wake of all that glass that had broken in the explosion. It stuck up from his back like the trees of a forest, embedded deep and leaking blood. 

The red coated every inch of his back, dripping down his sides and arms, soaking what was left of his shirt.   
Tony felt sick, and Happy took his shoulder in comfort, other hand still holding Peters.

The young hero was lifted away, Happy going with him. Tony went to follow, only for one of the medics to push him back to the ground. “Sir, I need you to stay down so I can check you over.”

The billionaire may have hit his head, but he had no interest of being kept from Peter, and he brushed their hands away as he got to his feet.   
“I’m fine. I want to go with him.”

The medic didn’t look happy about it, but didn’t argue, as they followed the others to where Peter was being taken to the med bay.   
Happy was standing beside the bed, that Peter had been placed in, but turned to Tony as he came in. “You should be sitting down, getting yourself checked out.”

Stark was just about sick of hearing that, and he shook his head, ignoring the way it ached, as he watched the kid in the bed. “He saved me, Happy, and he’s hurt because of it. I couldn’t care less about how I feel right now.”

Happy looked like he wanted to say something else, when Peter let out an unhappy grunt and tried to move away from the hands lifting his eyelids to shine a light at them. His legs kicked weakly in the bed, as he tried to turn away from the bright light, and Happy quickly placed a hand at the back of his head, keeping him still. “Shh, Pete. You’re okay.”

It was difficult to understand the teenager, with the drugs making it so hard for him to speak, but Tony heard his name and that was enough.   
“Hmm…T-Tony…want…Ton…where’s?”

Stark raced over, quickly crouching down so that Peter could blink open his heavy eyes and see him. “I’m here kid, I’m right here.”

Peters eyes took a while to focus, gaze sliding around like he was too tired to look at one thing for long; but when he found Mr Starks face, his face melted into a lazy smile.   
“You’re ‘kay?”

The youngest Avenger’s hand pawed clumsily at his mentor’s chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, and Tony lifted his own hand to grip it comfortingly.   
“I’m okay. You saved me, Pete.” The words made Tony feel heavy with guilt, which only grew worse as the medics began pulling glass from Peters back. 

“I’m so sorry you got hurt. You should never be in any danger when you’re here, and I’m going to make sure, whoever planted that bomb, is found and locked away. I’m going to take care of you, Spider-baby.”

Peter’s eyes slipped closed, as he let out a soft sigh. “Fift…een s’not…baby, Mr S…tark.”

Tony’s heart clenched, as Peter’s hand grew limp in his hold, but the medic closest to him reassured that it was okay. “He’s got a concussion, but he can sleep for now. We’ll wake him up routinely, but he should be okay. It might be better if he sleeps for this part anyway.”

Tony couldn’t agree more. 

It took so long for all the glass and shrapnel to be pulled out, and every wound cleaned and dressed, but Tony and Happy stayed the whole time.   
Peter was breathing easier, as he lay on his stomach in the bed, heavy meds flowing to keep him calm and pain free. His hand was limp in Tony’s, fingers occasionally curling in his sleep. 

He looked so young when he slept, and Tony was once again struck by how deeply he cared for the kid that he’d found on youtube, fighting crime in pyjamas. 

Happy let out a small chuckle from where he sat on the other side of the bed. “I never thought I’d be so worried about a fifteen-year-old. Hell, I never thought you would either but…the number of voicemails I’ve had to listen to from this turd?”

Tony laughed at the fond way Happy called the kid a turd, as if it were a veiled compliment rather than a child’s version of cursing. 

He nodded, agreeing. “Believe me, this is weird for me too. He was just some newbie hero that I brought into a fight. I thought I could help him get started as a proper Avenger; I never thought I’d be losing my mind with worry over him. Kind of makes me hate my dad even more. I can’t help myself from checking up on Peter every goddamn minute he’s not in my sight, and my dad barely even looked at me.”

Happy shrugged just a little, sinking further down into his chair as if he were about to take a nap.   
“Well, you always said you never wanted to become your father, now you know you haven’t.”

Happy closed his eyes, settling into a well-deserved sleep, and Tony smiled at his words.  
He was right. It was so strange to think a fifteen-year-old had made him a better person than he thought he could be, but it was true, and he didn’t think had ever be able to thank Peter enough for that.

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me what you think? I know its not that long but whatever ha I'll try to get my other prompts done soon, and if you want to see which ones im working on, I put updates on my tumblr which you can add ideas and input to, and I've also posted a list of all my prompts so that you know whats coming next. I know a lot of people follow my fics which I'm sooo grateful for and amazed by, so yeah you find all that on my whump dedicated blog on tumblr its called whumppile


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